World Oceans
I've heard people tell me that once you lose something, it's not going to come back. I've been teased for holding on to the hope that you’d come back, that you’d keep to your promise of returning to me. They say it’s pointless to believe in such, but I know better than to listen to mere small-minded talk. I’ve believed in bigger things than this, and I know better than they do. I just know you’d come back.
I sit by the edge of the harbor where we’ve last said our goodbyes to each other, remembering the day you’ve gone to report for the war. Unlike today’s gray skies, the heavens above us then has been streaked with wispy cirrus clouds that has then scattered the bright morning sun all around us. The harbor has then looked so vivid with various banners and posters of support for our troops where you’ve since enlisted as has been mandatory for young men like you. All around us have been parents saying their farewells and well-wishes to their sons, sisters to their brothers, women to their lovers. We’ve been lovers for so long but still so young at heart. We’ve believed that this war would be over soon and that farewells aren’t necessary since you’re good at fighting your enemies. We would then promise each other that you’d come back in one piece and that we’d be together again very soon.
Today’s much drearier than that day three years ago. The harbor’s much quieter too compared to then. The only other people who come around this time of the day are elderly couples taking long afternoon walks along the seashore and children collecting seashells. With these sights around me, it’s hard to believe that there’s even a war going on.
“Oh, have you heard the radio today? They say the Japanese have surrendered.”
I catch a trio of elderly men walking by and decide to catch some more of their conversation, intrigued at the notion of this hell of a war coming to an end.
“They have? Well it’s about time. If only those American reinforcements came in sooner, they’d have surrendered much sooner.”
“Let’s just be glad it’s finally over. I just can’t wait to see my son again.”
“Same here. All I ever know of my son comes from the letters he writes me. I hope he comes back in one piece.”
“In this war? You’d be lucky to have him back alive at all.”
I fall onto my knees as the men walk further on, astounded. I haven’t got any word from him, and now I find out the war is over. I don’t even understand why he’s stopped writing to me. I’ve used to receive his letters dated daily every week, but since I’ve started to frequent the harbor nearly every day awaiting his return, the letters have also stopped coming. I too would write to him every day, but since his letters have stopped coming, so have I stopped writing. I may have simply feared for the worst.
In spite of our communication coming to a halt, I’d still come wait for the ship that would carry him back home. Even though it seems hopeless in the relentlessness of war, I still believe he’ll come back one way or another. Even if he comes back with an amputated limb, I know he’ll make it back here alive.
There where the horizon meets the sea, a black shape comes into view. I figure it to be a large ship sailing to this harbor. Knowing that the war’s finally over, this could contain the shipment of soldiers who’ve survived the war and are now coming back home. I only hope that he too is on that boat with them.
For a ship of her size, she seems to be moving really fast since she docks here in so little time. With the boat anchored down, the ramps come rolling down for the passengers to alight. Like I’ve guessed, survivors of the war walk down the ramp like it’s their first time in a new land. Most of them have been wounded in more ways than one, but they look so happy to be back home safe and sound. Some of them have even teared up the moment they step foot onto the land out of relief. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight, for this right here shows that they’ve fought for the nation and lived to tell the tales of their heroic acts. No matter how glad I seem to be for them, I could only receive the rest of my happiness for the sight of him walking with them down that ramp.
Then I finally see him walking with his comrades, his face more relieved than ever to be back home. He looks up at the sky as though this sky’s different from that of the war-torn towns he’s had to defend. Amazingly he’s returned in one whole piece. The war though has worm him out wearily, aging his face a whole decade older in those three years. Even though he looks older, I recognize him by that swagger that controls his walk, that infectious smile, those smoldering brown eyes. I know that he’s the man I’ve come to love, the one who’d take me out on weekend picnics by the seashore, the soldier who’s promised to come back and reunite us once more.
I run towards him out of excitement, brushing my way past wounded soldiers. With arms wide open and a big goofy smile on my face, I attack him with a big old hug only to go right through him. Figuring that I’ve merely missed my mark, I go for a hug from behind only to find my arms going right through him. He continues to walk on as I fall to my knees utterly confused.
Why couldn’t I hold him?
I follow him walking along the seashore right to the spot where I’ve been waiting for him all these days, where we’ve so long ago said our pre-war promises, where we’ve last held each other. Suddenly his face falters, his eyes welling up with tears. From his pocket he produces a worn-out letter most likely folded away right after his first reading of it. I care not to read its contents, intent on his intentions.
“My love, I’ve come back in one piece just like I promised.”
Why’s he talking like I’m not here? I’m just right here beside him. Can’t he even see me?
“I hope you’re doing well wherever you are. Gosh, war is hell. I wouldn’t want to do that again even if it meant saving the nation. It’s just all too much for me in so little time.
“The one thing that got me through the war though were your letters. Reading about your daily life brought my spirits up, no matter how mundane your days seemed to be. I’d write you back too as lovers would, but eventually I stopped when I found out about you.
“Your brother wrote to me that you’d suffered immensely during my absence, losing your appetite for much else. You grew delirious and depressed until you kept to this spot at the harbor, waiting until you died of starvation.
“You slowly killed yourself over me, you know."
I watch him cry as he looks at the crumpled letter in his hand with tears up in his eyes. I cry as I struggle to touch him to no avail. I could only sit back and cry.
“When I got this letter, it destroyed me. I didn’t feel like continuing on. I wanted the war to kill me, but I realized that I still had my family counting on me since I’m the only son. Eventually I changed my reason to keep fighting—from fighting for you to fighting for my family. I honestly didn’t think I’d survive, but here I am now in one piece. I guess I got my luck to thank for that.
“Now that I’m here at this spot once more, I’m reminded of you again and of how much I miss you. I miss your laugh, your smile, the dimples in your cheeks when you smile, that twinkle in your eyes every time I was with you. I miss our weekend picnics here, our tandem bicycle rides around town, our weekly halo-halo ritual there at Manang’s ice cream parlor down the street. I miss you being here with me.
“It’s too late for me now to make it all up to you after everything I’ve gone through. I’ll just go now and pay my respects to your grave. Even thinking it feels uncomfortable, but it’s all I can do now."
I try to hold him once more as he turns to walk back home, his intent hesitant and regretful. I manage to solidly touch him, but he doesn't react. I could merely hold him without him feeling it at all.
“I miss you. I love you. Until we meet again, take care.”